


Progression of Cause to Effect

by esoteric_criterion



Series: Through the Hands of Time [3]
Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Friendship, Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-08-14 23:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8033149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esoteric_criterion/pseuds/esoteric_criterion
Summary: Nightwing thought his time traveling experience would be a one-time thing. Of course, it's then that fate decides to give him a time-traveling villain in all its ironic glory. It's also just his luck that Damian happens to be with him on this one particular instance.Stuck nearly six years in the past, Damian has three missions. One: Find his idiotic brother. Two: Kick Warp's ass for sending them here. Three: Get home as soon as possible before Bruce discovers he snuck out on patrol.Sequel to The Art of Quantum Physics.





	1. Affectionate

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaaand it's here! The official sequel to TAOQP! Aren't you excited? :D
> 
> Updates will be slow, as expected by me. (Usually every 2 months tbh.) It just adds more suspense. But enjoy anyways!

It was a lovely night in both Blüdhaven and Gotham. The city lights twinkled carelessly below, casting an orange glow towards the skies above. It was one of the rare nights in which you could actually see the moon through the city's haze. The summer air was just the right temperature; cool but with a hint of humidity.

Nightwing smirked as he landed on a concrete rooftop, officially setting foot in Gotham. It'd been eight months and twelve days since his time-traveling incident. Things had gone back to normal since then. Well, as normal as it can get for a part-time vigilante.

Wally had been reunited with his family and friends. He and Artemis had officially broken it off, instead opting to be just friends, albeit very _awkward_ friends. He'd gone back to living in Central City with his Aunt and Uncle, and even went back to being a hero. He currently functions as the second Flash, filling in for Barry every so often when the original is busy.

Blockbuster, after his retrieval and after dealing with Cadmus, disappeared from the face of the planet. An 93.43% positive facial recognition match suggests he may be taking a long, relaxing vacation in Cozumel, Mexico.

No paradoxes had occurred that anyone knew of in the meantime. No alterations, not in the slightest. The timeline remained untouched for the time being. Everyone was fine and healthy and alive as well.

Nightwing had continued on with his life, but also rejoined the Team as leader. After returning, Batman had forced Nightwing to take another hero with him on patrol at first. Usually it was either Tim or Barbara, but sometimes Artemis tagged along too. Now it just became a habit to invite one of his friends every once and a while.

He even began visiting home a lot, too. In fact, that was why he was here.

Bruce was taking up a lead on Twoface's whereabouts with Steph- now Batgirl- and Tim- now Red Robin. They were only to be contacted on the basis of an absolute emergency. Nightwing knew they'd be gone for a long while, if not the entire night.

He also knew that there was an extremely bored 10-year-old stuck at home. Bruce had deemed the mission too dangerous for someone so inexperienced and new to the hero biz. So Damian was probably angrily beating the crap out of a punching bag. This was a usual occurrence when he was barred from patrol.

Nightwing shook his head at the thought of Damian cursing out Bruce under his breath every point-five seconds, his intense gray-green eyes boring into the punching bag like it offended him, and his fingernails searing half-moon marks into his palms.

His feet landed on rooftop after rooftop, and before he knew it, he found himself at the secret entrance to the Bat Cave. He typed his passcode in and walked silently into the entrance, only to find his assumption was correct.

Damian was in the Bat Cave, dressed in a tank-top and loose sweatpants. His fists were bare of any wrappings, and sweat dripped down from his damp black hair. He let out loud, angered grunts at each precise hit.

Nightwing raised an eyebrow, the smirk still playing on his lips. "What did that thing ever do to you?"

Damian only paused to shoot him an annoyed glare before continuing to throw fist after fist at the punching bag.

Nightwing rolled his eyes. He walked silently over towards the costume case, and took out Damian's Robin costume. He turned back to Damian and threw it at him.

Damian simply stopped what he was doing and caught the costume. He raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

"Suit up. We're going to Blüdhaven."

Damian scoffed. "Aren't you forgetting something, Grayson? _I'm not ready_." He mocked Bruce's words with distaste. "Father won't be happy about it, and you know it. Besides, Pennyworth will surely notice that I'm gone." He crossed his arms.

"Alfred knows everything already. I'm fairly sure he won't mind. And, as for Bruce...." Nightwing then shot him a Cheshire grin, a lightbulb practically appearing over his head. He waltzed over towards the Bat-computer and connected to Bruce's communicator. He was answered with a gruff-sounding what. He took a deep breath before forcing his words to come out in a rush that would make the Flash family proud. "Hey Bruce, I know you're busy, but I'm borrowing Dami for patrol, if you need us we'll be in Blüdhaven, see you in a couple hours, bye!" He turned the communicator off and shot Damian a smug look. "Problem solved." He took off into the darkness, his maniacal laughter drifting after him.

Damian just rolled his eyes. God forbid him from actually saying it out loud, but he actually was starting to _like_ his surrogate older brother.

|||••••••••••••••••••••|||

Of all the people Nightwing was possibly expecting to run into, Warp was not one of them.

Especially not with Damian. For as long as Robin is running around Blüdhaven, he is Nightwing's responsibility. Running them face-first into the unknown will surely get him an ass-kicking from Bruce.

It didn't help that he was still unfamiliar with Warp. He didn't know that much about the man. All he knew for certain was that he was a fairly new villain, and he was highly dangerous. One misstep could lead to a trip forward into the future or back into the past. If sent too far, it could mean being stuck there forever.

So Nightwing approached the situation with extreme caution. They'd gotten a tip of suspicious activity in an abandoned apartment complex on the west side of town. It took them ten minutes to get there, and they took a couple more just to steak the building out.

Nightwing sent Damian in through a window on the top floor while he canvased the ground floor from the back door. The house was quiet and dark. It was absolutely dead, looking like nobody had been in there in ages.

When Damian came creeping silently down the old wooden stairs and shook his head negative, Nightwing began to wonder if the tip had been false.

Then a bang sounded throughout the quiet house. It sounded somewhat muffled, as if hidden behind closed doors somewhere. With a quick moment of reassessment, Nightwing and Damian both came to a similar conclusion. They looked towards an old wooden door positioned inside the kitchen. A basement.

Nightwing approached it cautiously, just in case somebody happened to walk out. He gripped the brass knob and turned slowly. It pulled open with ease. It looked dark down there, but a light was coming from somewhere on the backside of the stairs. The noise of metal on metal echoed around the room. It sounded like tools being used, almost like a socket wrench.

Nightwing and Damian shared a glance. "Ladies first." Nightwing whispered quietly with a smile playing on his lips. Damian just scowled but moved forward nonetheless. Nightwing followed closely behind.

They crept down the stairs slowly and as stealthily as possible. Thirteen steps in total, each taken a total of two seconds at a time. Once at the bottom, the two took in everything.

The concrete floor was cracked badly to reveal the dirt underneath. From somewhere in one of the dark corners came the steady drip of water. The sound of working tools had stopped only mere second before. A couple of bare metal shelves lined the walls, but the room was otherwise empty.

Nightwing held up his hand, signaling for Damian to go around the stairs the other way. They crept around opposite sides of the steps, sticking to the shadows, before meeting up behind the staircase. The two shared a look. Something wasn't right. There wasn't anyone else here.

The light had been coming from a machine in front of them. It was a single circular platform with a wall wrapped halfway around it. Black wires snaked out of it and spilled onto the floor. Blue and white lights lined its metallic casing. It looked almost futuristic.

Nightwing suddenly got a feeling of dread. His stomach knotted, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He tensed his shoulders. They needed to get out of here, right now. He turned around, reaching out for Damian in the process, before freezing when his eyes met a grinning face.

"Nightwing, my dear boy." A deep, raspy voice sounded. It was cold, emotionless, malicious. Nightwing couldn't suppress the shiver that rippled down his spine. Of all the villains he's ever faced off, Warp had to be the one that creeped him out the most. Maybe it was his borderline pedophilic personality or the fact that Nightwing had a fear of being sent into an endless oblivion; he really didn't know. "So glad to see you here. And you've brought some extra chum. Delicious."

Nightwing pushed Damian behind him. "You set us up." It wasn't a question, but a fact. The tip had been meant to lure them here.

"Now you're thinking." Warp began to walk around them in a slow arc, closer to the machine. Nightwing didn't move, but his eyes remained fixated on the villain. He felt Damian tense up behind him.

"Does the Bat know you're out here with his little pet?" Nightwing didn't answer. He knew that Warp had a habit of small talk before he went along with his master plan. His hand found Damian's arm, and he kept it there as a reassurance. "Or perhaps the question I should be asking....." Warp had his back turned to them, facing the machine. His shoulders moved slightly, his upper back stretching as an indication that he was reaching for something. "....will he even realize where his toys had disappeared to?"

Nightwing moved then, pushing Damian away from him before diving the other direction. Warp spun back around quickly at the same moment. A beam of electricity shot through the air past the place the two heroes had previously been standing. Nightwing continued to flip away as another beam followed in the place he'd landed. And another. And another.

Warp cackled morbidly, the eerie grin never leaving his face. His shots were barely inches away from landing on its target. The fact that he found so much glee from others' pain highlighted his typical villainous attitude.

And then Warp finally managed to get a hit in. The beam clipped Nightwing in the side and burnt through his suit and seared into his skin. He was sent skidding across the ground, his head smacking painfully on the hard floor upon initial impact. A faint trail of blood was left smeared on the concrete in his wake.

While the Blüdhaven vigilante was incapacitated, Warp turned to Damian. The younger hero had his hands curled into a tight fist, a murderous glare directed at the villain. "Come, child. It'll be much easier for you if you just cooperate."

"As if!" Damian spat back in anger. He let out a feral cry and leapt at Warp.

And Warp's wicked grin returning told Damian that was exactly what he'd wanted. The villain waited until the last moment to step out of the way. Damian tried to stop his advancement, really, he did. But he ended up slamming into the wall of the device. An electric beam from Warp's staff followed his path and sent a current running through his muscles, rendering them useless as they spasmed.

Warp slammed his hand down on a button. The machine whirred as a glass panel slid around to complete the circle, and the lights started to warm up and brighten within the device.

Warp stood in front of the glass triumphantly. "See, child? Was that so hard?" By then, Damian noticed Nightwing clambering to his feet beyond him. He didn't make any indication to acknowledge him as not to alert the villain to his rising. He didn't think he could, either; his muscles were still painfully tight.

Nightwing made his move. He silently crept up behind Warp, delivering a hard blow to the back of his head. Any normal human would've gone unconscious. However, Warp went down, but refused to let his grip on reality go. He groaned and stirred, but didn't quite make a move to get up.

Nightwing rushed over to the control panel. Everything was unlabeled. He couldn't just press one and hope it'd work. It might do the complete opposite of what he's hoping. There were too many wires to figure out which one to unplug safely without shocking him or his brother.

He took a step back, biting his lip. His heel connecting with something, sending it sliding back. He looked back to see what it was.

Then he got an idea.

"Damian, stay down." He said loud enough for his brother to he him. He picked up Warp's staff from off the ground and rammed it straight into the glass as hard as he could without causing further injury to the sweltering gash in his side.

The glass didn't break, but it began to crack. He swung again. And again. Each time the cracks spider-webbed a little more.

"No!" Screeched a suddenly conscious Warp. The man scrumbled to get up behind Nightwing. "You fool! What are you doing?!"

The machine began to whir faster and louder, the lights inside getting almost blindingly bright. Nightwing knew they didnt have much time. Readying his last swing and hoping for the best, he cocked his head to look at the struggling villain out of the corner of his eyes. He was angry; so so angry. Nobody messed with his little brother.

"Go to hell." He growled menacingly. With that, he brang the staff down upon the glass a final time. It shattered beautifully, the shards lost in the whiteness that took over his vision, and the clatter of the pieces hitting the ground absorbed into the deafening screech of the machine.

That was the last thing any of them would recall happening.


	2. Cooperate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yaaaayyy the next chapter is here :D Have fun reading kiddos~
> 
> Big shoutout to my beta @takalsuki as well. Much love and appreciation!

Damian's head lolled as he came to. He finally fluttered open his eyes, a small groan leaving his lips. He couldn’t be more thankful for the room’s dull lighting- his head was pounding with a fierce migraine. He began to reach a hand up to his temple, but instead he only made it a fraction of the way.

His wrists halted as something tugged at them urgently. Glancing down, he was angered to see handcuffs keeping him firmly rooted to the armrests of his seat; to the legs of the chair, his feet were also bound.

He had been stripped of his gloves, belt, boots, and basically anything other than his leotard. Even his hidden pockets were emptied. Whoever had done this to him had been thorough. He scowled in displeasure. How dare they?

Suddenly he felt eyes on him. Damian stiffened immediately, finally becoming fully aware of his surroundings. He was in an interrogation room of sorts. The walls were all a bland, dirty gray. In one of the corners was a state-of-the-art surveillance camera. The small table in front of him was hard metal, as was the folding chair he was cuffed to. A heavy door sat next to a rectangle of dark, one-way glass. They could see him, but he couldn't see them.

He narrowed his eyes- thankful to find his mask still in place- at the darkened glass just above his own reflection. He could tell exactly where the person was. Judging by how his senses were going off like the fireworks he had yet to see (Grayson was supposed to take him sometime), the person wasn't alone either. It was just that this particular person was glaring with a fierce intensity.

"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to interrogate me?" He quipped icily, knowing very well the spectators could hear him. There was a moment’s hesitation before the door creaked open. Three people walked in, and it was safe to say that Damian wasn’t expecting any of them.

One: Superman. Clark Kent.

Two: Black Canary. Dinah Lance.

And three: Batman. His father.

So, he said the phrase Nightwing would have said in a similar kind of situation.

“You have _got_ to be kidding me.”

Black Canary and Superman shared a mildly confused glance despite their serious faces at his tone. The expression was gone in the span of seconds. Batman’s gaze didn't waver, however. He narrowed his eyes beneath the mask and asked the question that they presumably came for. “Who are you?” Straight to the point as ever.

“What Earth is this, and what is the year?” Damian shot right back with another question to answer his questions.

Batman didn't give him a direct answer. “You're a time traveler.” There was a vague hint of disbelief in his tone. Behind him Black Canary raised an eyebrow, and Superman crossed his arms. Damian couldn't help but feel a bit irked that nobody believed him.

“If you told me what Earth this is, I could confirm that statement.” Damian quipped back. He enjoyed the look of annoyance on Batman’s face.

“We’re on Earth 2.” Superman chipped in.

“Tt. Figures. Warp’s device sent me back by approximately six years, maybe more.” He muttered more to himself more than anyone, but they obviously heard.

“Six years?” Black Canary questioned. “I take it you're the Robin of that time?”

“I wouldn't be wearing the suit otherwise, Lance.”

A look of shock crossed over her face. It was safe to say that she didn't expect him to know her identity. “How do you-”

“I know all of yours. Father didn't trust me enough at first to know the identities of the entire League, so my… brother, Nightwing, took the liberty of informing me.”

“Didn't trust you?” Batman questioned gruffly.

At the same time, Superman chipped in quietly. “Nightwing... I recognize that name. Wait a minute, _father_?” His eyes widened with the realization, his arms dropping to his side once more.

Damian had no response. Dinah and Superman both looked to Batman, who stood stony-faced and stiff.

“You're his _kid_?”

Batman intercepted the answer before it could leave his lips. “Yes. He is. I took a blood sample from him while he was unconscious.”

“Tt. Typical.”

“I also happen to know who your mother is.”

Damian stiffened, his jaw snapping shut. His eyes diverted to the ground at the mention of his mother. “My mother,” he started in a low tone, “is a heartless _bitch_ who cares about nothing more than _power_.”

Superman crossed his arms once more in response to his harsh language. “Hey now, that is no way for a young man to talk; especially not about his mother.”

“She is _not_ my mother anymore.” Damian hissed. “She disowned me when I chose this life over the one she had wanted me to follow.”

Superman opened his mouth to respond, but Damian cut him off. “We’re wasting time sitting around here. I have a feeling that I did not come alone. If my assumptions are correct, my partner Nightwing is here, along with the villain that brought us here. We must locate them at once.” He let it known that he’d slipped his cuffs off at that point by standing up and placing them on the table. When the Leaguers in front of him began to tense, he remained defiant, silently challenging any of them to come at him.

Nobody in the room moved an inch. Black Canary, Superman, and Batman stared sternly at him; he returned their glares with such a ferocity that it was beyond impressive for a child so young. Clear that this was not going anywhere, Damian decided to move his first chess piece; not by battle, but surprisingly by tongue. “Would it help you to know,” he stated quite calmly, “that Nightwing is none other than Dick Grayson?”

This caused a reaction. Black Canary’s eyes widened while a gasp left Superman’s mouth. Batman, had it even been possible, seemed to tense even more.

“Can we leave yet? I would rather find my partner rather quickly before he decides to do something quite stupid. Forget the villain we came here with; he’s _harmless_ compared to that idiot.”

|||••••••••••••••••••••|||

Upon being released from confinement, Damian was to be introduced to the Team. They’d act as his temporary babysitters. “You are going to stay here while we locate Nightwing.” Batman ordered him. “The Team is to contact the Watchtower, should you step out of line.”

“But Nightwing is _my_ partner! I have to be out there looking for him!” Damian had argued.

“That’s enough.” At Batman’s sharp tone, Damian had backed down. “Other than the blood sample, we have no way to validate your identity and ensure your intentions are pure. You _will not_ follow us, am I clear?”

And that was how Damian found himself standing stoically, and a bit moodily, next to his father in front of a group of teenage imposters. He’d had most of his uniform returned to him, minus the belt and weapons. He was just glad he had the comfort of his cape and hood back.

“Team, this is Robin from the future. He will be staying here temporarily until we find a way to send him back. Your job is to keep an eye on him; make sure he does not leave this mountain. He is not to be given any weapons either.”

Damian snorted in feigned amusement. “Are you afraid I am going to cut their throats in the middle of the night?” He muttered more to himself than anyone. However, his words did not go unnoticed. Superboy stiffened, a feral growl coming out of his throat. Right. Super-hearing.

“Relax, clone. It was a joke.” He addressed Superboy, much louder this time. Superboy just narrowed his eyes at the smaller boy. The Team looked between the two in confusion at the exchange.

Damian looked up to find Batman staring down at him. The meaning behind the glare was clear. _Behave. Watch your mouth. Don’t get yourself killed._ He simply shrugged nonchalantly in response to his father-from-the-past’s glare.

“If he tries to leave, restrain him. Dismissed.” With that, Batman swiftly walked out of the room. The Team and Damian stood facing each other in silent tension. Nobody made a move, nobody made a sound.

That is, until Batman was well out of sight and earshot. “ _If he tries to leave, restrain him_.” Damian mimicked in a perfect imitation of Batman’s gravelly growl. “Who does he think he is?” He huffed angrily, swiftly turning on his heel. He made it five steps before a blur of yellow and red shot past him, Kid Flash AKA Wally West appearing in the doorway. “Hey, where do you think you're going!” The red-head in front of him crossed his arms firmly.

“To go get some food.” Damian deadpanned as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Out of my way, West. I haven’t eaten in over a day.”

Wally took a step back in surprise. “How do you know my name?”

Damian scoffed in response. “Oh please, even a five-year-old could deduct your identity. You are the most careless when it comes to your identity. You might as well carry around a sign that announces it.”

Sniggers erupted behind him. Damian didn't have to turn around to know who it was. “You’re not so golden either, Crock.” This ceased the sniggers. Damian simply shouldered Wally out of the way without hesitation and continued to the kitchen.

After having all of his meals prepared for him his entire life, he did not yet know how to make his own food. He wasn't even allowed in the kitchen back at the manor; Alfred never liked people bothering him while he cooked. So, he made the only thing he knew how to make: a bowl of cereal. He could sense the entire Team behind him, quietly observing him and following his every move.

He sat down at the table with his bowl. “You have questions.” Damian said, breaking the silence. “Ask them.” He scooped a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

“What’s the future like?”

Damian was annoyed that it was Wally that asked the first question. He would have preferred if someone _more intelligent_ or _not obnoxious_ would have talked instead. “I cannot answer that, West.” He snapped icily. It would be an understatement to say he disliked Wally, and he didn't care to hide his hatred. “The timeline is a fragile thing.”

There was a slight moment of silence before Kaldur spoke up. He spoke confidently and calmly, his tone level. Damian found him to be a lot more tolerable. “What sent you here?”

“Not a what, but a who. A villain, Warp, wanted to get rid of me by sending me back into the past. The imbecile was trying to _get attention._ My partner disrupted the teleportation process before it could finish, thus sending all three of us here.”

“Your partner, meaning Batman?” The green girl hesitantly asked. In Damian’s opinion, she was just too innocent for her own good. That would all change soon enough. He never did find out the reason for her hardening personality back in his time.

“Tt. No, Batman is my mentor. My partner is a big idiot.”

The Team was a bit surprised at this fact. The Robin in the future trained with Batman yet had a different partner? They found the situation to be quite strange. Who would Batman trust enough to willingly lend them his protégé? “What’s their name?” Wally piped up, asking the question that was on all of their minds.

Damian hesitated, debating on whether or not to tell them. “He goes by the name Nightwing.” He started after a moment’s pause. “He is the protector of Blüdhaven. We occasionally form a partnership.”

Recognition sparked on Robin’s face. “Wait, you mean Nightwing as in the Kryptonian legend?”

This time it was Damian’s turn to be confused. He’d always assumed that Grayson had just came up with the name on his own accords. Dark, broody, Bat-like. “The Kryptonian legend?” He echoed inquiringly.

Robin didn't miss a beat. “Yeah, Supes used to tell it to me when I was little. It's said that several hundred years ago, there was a Kryptonian man who was cast out from his family and decided to take on crime as the vigilante Nightwing. Through the generations there had been multiple Nightwings; in fact, Superman himself used the moniker at one point during a trip to Kandor.”

This was all new information to Damian, but it did explain a lot. “Tt. Figures.”

“Excuse me?” Robin raised an eyebrow.

“It makes sense now how he chose his name.”

“Care to enlighten us, O Mysterious One?” Artemis, the only member he actually liked on this current team. Her gruff, snarky attitude was comparable to his own. At times, she reminded him of Todd, but altogether she wasn't too bad.

Damian just shook his head. “Classified information.”

M’gann suddenly gasped, her pupils blown wide as she slipped into her mind. It was as if a fog had just lifted. The key phrase had triggered something. A memory. She could see it clearly now, could remember everything she’d previously forgotten.

_“What's your real name?"_

_"Classified."_

_"What time are you from?"_

_"Classified.”_

“Nightwing!” M’gann cried. “He was here before! _In this time_! Our minds were wiped so we couldn't remember!”

“ _What_?” The Team simultaneously exclaimed in shock. They looked to her, bewildered at the news.

“M’gann, can you restore our memories in any way?” Kaldur asked swiftly.

She reached out to the others’ minds, attempting to dissipate the blocks from each one. It didn't budge. She frowned slightly, the glow fading from her eyes. “There’s some sort of block. I can’t remove it.”

“Why don't you just show us your memories?” Zatanna suggested with a slight shrug.

Kaldur nodded in agreement. “It could help us remember our own.”

“Great idea-”

“No.” Damian cut M’gann off firmly. “There was a reason for the memory blocks in the first place. Your knowledge of the future could affect the time stream.”

“We could always just have the block replaced.” Artemis pointed out. “Hell, we’ll probably have to go through it again just because _you’re_ here.” She shot Damian a small glare, who returned it with ten times the ferocity.

“It is still not a good idea, Crock.”

Inside, however, Damian was panicking. What if they knew Grayson’s identity? That was one of the rules of being a hero; never reveal your identity unless you absolutely 100% trust that person. And he knew that if they knew Grayson’s identity, they’d be putting his life at risk, should they get caught by Warp. He also remembered faintly hearing that, at some point after the Team’s foundation, there had been a mole.

Damian did the only thing he could think of. The Team was currently distracted, all of them not paying him attention. They wouldn't even notice until it was too late.

He made a break for it. The exit was right there. Sneaking as silently as he could and leaving his bowl of cereal behind, he slipped around the Team, hugging the shadows of the kitchen. He had to get to Nightwing. He would be able to figure this mess out.

He made it halfway before he felt someone’s eyes finally connect to him. He broke out into a sprint as he heard someone shout after him.

Four more large leaps. That was it.

 _One_.

 _Two_.

He heard the nocking of an arrow behind him and ducked right as it flew over his head.

 _Three_.

He also heard the telltale whoosh of Kid Flash speeding past him, presumable to block the exit. He dropped to the ground, sliding right underneath the speedster’s legs. Bouncing back up to his feet with a triumphant smirk, he took the last lunge to freedom.

 _Four_.

He felt the Zeta Tube whir to life and the world around him began to fizzle out. He’d escaped. He didn't even have to put up a fight. Besides, he had better things to do.

He had an idiot and an imbecile to find.


	3. Overcompensate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus sorry this took so long. I've been dealing with a ton of personal shit that has left me emotionally compromised. But I've managed to pull it back together so here you go.

Damian continued to run well after he made it through the Zeta. He wanted to make sure the ‘Mini-League’ wouldn't be able to follow him and drag him back. _Nobody_ keeps him locked up in a cell against his will.

Of course, when he decided to escape, he didn't account for the fact that it may have been midday. Which, as shown by the sun glaring down at him from him from above, it clearly was. He’d have to put in extra effort to stay hidden. Blüdhaven, (he assumed this was it, even if it did look a bit grimier than he was used to) was quite active at this time of day. If anyone caught sight of him, he'd be screwed. That meant hiding from cameras as well. His costume would stand out like a beacon in the daylight.

Damian didn't know where to start looking. He supposed he could check Grayson’s hideouts and some abandoned buildings while he waited for night to come around, but he had half a day to cover so much ground. Not to mention that if he accidentally provoked someone, he didn't have his weapons to defend himself. Though, he severely doubted he’d even need them if some loser tried to pick a fistfight.

If Grayson was in Gotham, that would be trickier. He couldn't just waltz into the Batman’s territory without risking capture. Even when he wasn't sitting in the Batcave, Bruce seemed to know all that went on in his city. Damian suspected that was Pennyworth’s doing.

Which was yet another thing that would make his search more difficult: he was currently on the run. A plethora of heroes would be covertly scouring the continent for him in no time. He'd have to ensure that he stays _extremely_ well-hidden. One slip-up would bring them a step closer to finding him.

His stomach growled, reminding him that he was still hungered. He scowled in dissatisfaction. Couldn't he have just waited until after he’d eaten breakfast to escape? He hadn't eaten in two days. Sure, he had been taught by the League of Assassins that food was merely necessary for survival not enjoyment, yet he’d gotten quite used to the regular meals presented to him at his new home.

Damian sighed to himself. He didn't think this through at _all_. It was going to be a horrendously long day.

|||••••••••••••••••••••|||

Damian dejectedly sat at a table in a small café on the outskirts of Gotham. The sun had begun to set already, and he had only one possible lead. The only luck he'd had all day was the fact that his brother’s apartment currently belonged to somebody, and said somebody happened to be out. He’d “borrowed” a hoodie and a pair of sweats that happened to be a few sizes too big for him. He’d also taken the man’s cash (what kind of idiot keeps two hundred dollars in a piggy bank?) and his laptop.

The laptop had been easy to break into. It was low-grade, beginner-level hacking. The hardest part was using it to triangulate the last known location of Nightwing’s communicator. He had very little to work off of since he didn't have his own on him. Since the communicators were built to fend off professional hackers, it would take a lot of time and effort.

Damian was startled out of his concentration when a cup of steaming coffee and a sandwich was set down on the table next to the laptop. “Will that be all?” A familiar voice asked. Damian’s head shot up like a rocket.

Familiar blue eyes blinked back at him. Red hair cascaded down each shoulder, pale cheeks framed with faded freckles. Damian would recognize this person anywhere. “Actually, I could use your help with something, Barbara.”

The red-headed teenager stiffened. “How do you know my name?” She sounded slightly accusing, but Damian could detect the underlying tone of something akin to fear. She was on edge, ready to flee at a moment’s notice. It was as if she was hiding something. Scratch that, she was definitely hiding something. She would never be this paranoid without good reason.

“It says so on your nametag.” An excellent cover-up, despite half of the lettering being hidden by her red locks.

Barbara looked down to the tag on her breast that clearly stated her name in bold, black letters. “Oh.” Her cheeks flushed a rosy red. Her brow relaxed in relief. Her gaze turned back to him and her eyes studied him up and down. Faint traces of acknowledgement showed in her expression. “So what can I help you with… ?” She trailed off, inquiring a name. It was unusual for a waitress to ask for a name unless A) she was interested in said person, but this was clearly not the case because he was merely ten years old and she was fifteen, or B) she was prying for specific information.

“Damian.” He replied curtly. Recognition sparked in her eyes. It was oddly suspicious. She shouldn't know his name at this point. However, she kept quiet. Damian decided to take the risky leap forward. “I'm looking for my brother. Perhaps you’ve seen him around.”

He took notice of three things. He noticed the way her eyes swiftly darted around; the way her throat bobbed slightly as she swallowed; the way she wiped her sweaty palms on her grease-stained pants. She undoubtedly knew who he was talking about. “He’s nineteen. Black hair that he should really get cut, blue eyes, annoying smile, tall and fit. I've been told that women find him very attractive and… unforgettable.”

“Hmmm. Let me think-”

“Don't try to deceive me.” Damian cut her off, sparing her the lengthy excuse he was sure would come. “You _have_ seen him.”

She looked back at him, baffled yet terrified. “Excuse me?”

“I’ve been reading your body language. You know something. You knew my name. Tell me where my brother is right now or I will-”

“Alright, alright! He needed a place to lay low so he came to me. The villain that sent you two here may be trying to track you down. Now keep quiet.” Barbara hissed. Her eyes darted around the room once more before landing on him. “My shift ends in about five minutes. Meet me at the corner crosswalk in ten and I'll take you to the Boy Wonder of the damn future.”

  
|||••••••••••••••••••••|||

Approximately eight minutes later, Barbara showed up on the corner. She’d stripped of her apron and black work pants, now in only a jade green tee-shirt that complimented her flame red hair and a pair of skinny-jeans. She also held a paper bag in hand. A delicious smell was wafting from it, the smell of dressings and veggies and chicken and the small spots of grease seeping through the bag led him to conclude the fact that it was probably a sandwich of some sort. A memory surfaced, reminding him that Dick loved subs.

They walked together in silence for a while. Barbara not once looked at him, and he lurked a half-step behind her so that she could focus on leading. The sun had finally set somewhere behind all the buildings, and as the sky got increasingly darker, streetlights began to flicker to life. City buildings began to turn to apartment complexes which began to turn into suburban settlements.

Damian didn't realize where they were headed until they rounded the final corner. It clicked in his brain once he noted the name of the street. “Of all the places he could have chosen to hide out.” He commented dryly, more to himself than anyone. He turned his head to Barbara. “How is your father possibly alright with you hosting a male in your house?”

“He doesn't know.” Barbara answered after a moment's hesitation. She was probably off-put by the mention of her father. “He’s out of town for the week. My aunt’s watching me, but she's barely ever home. She's never been a very responsible person.” They arrived to her quaint little house by the time she’d finished with her response. She fished out a key from her jean pocket and unlocked the door.

Once they were inside, Barbara kicked her shoes off, pushing them to the side. Damian appreciated that some westerners respected cleanliness. He followed her up the stairs and down a small hallway with only three doorways. The first one, on the left-hand side, was obviously a bathroom. He could see the giant mirror that loomed over the sink in the dim light of the hallway. The second room, which was on the right, must be a bedroom. Damian presumed it was Commissioner Gordon’s, even though he couldn't see into the pitch black of the room. The last door was partially closed; this one was most likely Barbara’s.

Barbara pushed open the door to the last room. “Boy Wonder, I'm home.” She called in false merriment, flicking on the lights. “I brought food and found a stray bat.”

Damian ignored the snide comment and took note of the room. It wasn't very large, only room for a twin-sized bed, a small desk, a single dresser, a bedside table, and a closet positioned in the corner. The four walls were painted a lilac purple and only had a few posters or picture frames hung up on them. The clean rug beneath his feet was a pale beige. The thing that struck him odd was the fact that the room was absolutely immaculate. Nothing was out of place. It was straight and incredibly tidy. He couldn't help but think that his brother could learn from this.

Damian heard something shift from the floor on the other side of the bed. A fluff of black hair appeared over the edge of the bed, the half-lidded cerulean eyes that followed blinking at him blearily. Speak of the devil.

Suddenly, the eyes shot open wide. “Dami!” Dick cried, that familiar shit-eating grin gracing his face. He struggled to stand up. At that moment, it became clear why Dick had come to Barbara instead of hiding out on his own. His hair had been shaved on the sides and around the back, a pristine white bandage wrapped around the shaved area. He hadn’t noticed it sooner because it had been shielded underneath the remaining length of his hair. He noted the slight difference in pupil dilation- concussion, then. His bare torso was also wrapped up in light bandages from the right shoulder to just below his bellybutton.

Damian simply shook his head, vaulting over the slender bed. He sat down on the edge of the mattress and gently pushed his injured brother down into the pile of blankets and pillows laid out on the carpet. “You idiot.” He snorted, almost affectionate yet still biting as always. “Try not to strain yourself.” He caught Dick’s eyes studying him hard from head to toe. He rolled his own stormy grays in exasperation. “I am unharmed.”

Dick nodded almost absent-mindedly. “Good. That’s good. Now we just need to find Warp before he screws with this time.”

“Uh, no.” Barbara piped up from the other side of the room, her motherly side taking over. “You are not going anywhere. Especially without some food in that stomach. Have you even moved since I left this morning?” Dick shot her a guilty look over the edge of the bed. Barbara tossed the paper bag onto the sheets. “That's what I thought. I'll be downstairs if you need anything.” She turned on her heels and exited the room.

Dick watched her leave before gingerly taking the bag. His eyes lit up once he opened it, his hand coming out of it with a half a sub in his hand. He turned his eye back to Damian and took a bite. “Where’s your costume?”

Damian lifted the sweatshirt to reveal the traffic-light leotard underneath. “Yours?”

“Ruined.” Dick sighed, shaking his head in dismay. “Got too much blood on it to wash out, and Babs’ sewing skills won’t be good enough to fix the burns. I swear, this is the fifth one I've gone through in the last two months. What would I do without Alfred?” His eye suddenly trained itself to a spot on Damian’s hip, where there happened to be a distinct lack of an irregular-shaped object showing through the hem of the sweatpants. “Where’s your belt?”

Damian simply shrugged. He’d have to tell his brother about his encounter with the heroes sometime. They’d have to get his equipment back before they even think about leaving to go back home or else it could spell bad news for the timeline. “Mount Justice, I presume.”

Dick nearly choked on his mouthful of food. “ _What_?”

“I awoke there.” Damian explained. “They stole my weapons. I didn't have a chance to take them back before I escaped.”

“Dami, you're kidding me.” Dick sounded exasperated. “You didn't reveal anything, right?”

“Nothing of particular importance.” Damian lied smoothly. He wasn't about to reveal that he’d given up their identities to select League members. Given his brother’s concussed state, it made it easier to hide the truth from him.

“That's good.” Dick’s utter belief at the lie had Damian almost sighing in relief. “I made the mistake of running my mouth a tad too much last time I was here.”

That struck Damian hard. He hadn’t heard of an incident with time travel happening, especially not with Dick. He’d assumed that the Nightwing the Mini-League had referenced was from after his own time. “You've travelled to this time before? How come I didn't know of this?”

“It was that week I went missing. Bruce didn't want me to tell many people about it. You never asked, so I never told.” Dick sounded so nonchalant about the entire issue.

“You're insufferable.”

“But you love me.”

“Unfortunately, I am stuck with you. I have no choice but to tolerate your idiocy.”

Dick grinned up at him, all teeth and complete goofiness. “You _do_ love me!”

“ _Shut up_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to my beta <3

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any mistakes. I am my own beta after all. :)


End file.
